


Take a Turn Out of the Ordinary

by VarjoRuusu



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: All the Tooth Rotting, Auror Harry Potter, Cute, Draco being a prat, Fluff, Getting Together, Grumpy Harry, Lack of anything that could actually be called a plot, Lucius being Paranoid, M/M, Non-Explicit, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-Hogwarts, Post-War, Potions Master Draco Malfoy, Resolved Sexual Tension, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 18:02:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15273180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VarjoRuusu/pseuds/VarjoRuusu
Summary: Harry is temporarily the head of the Auror devision and having a rather good day to be perfectly honest, when Lucius Malfoy suddenly appears, demanding to know where Draco is. Harry's not exactly about to tell him that when he last saw Draco...well, he's just not going to say it.In which Draco Malfoy goes 'missing', Lucius Malfoy is a bit paranoid, and Harry finds himself in over his head in every respect.





	Take a Turn Out of the Ordinary

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I've been reading so much Draco/Harry I suppose it's about time I write my second ever AO3 posted story. It turned out longer than I expected, I don't really think it's up to snuff with my other work, but hey. It's been a while for writing and it's been a while since I wrote and HP stuff. Like. years, a while. I'm not even sure. 
> 
> Randomness abounds here. If you're looking for it to make sense...it won't.

Acting head Auror Potter, 28, was having what could be considered a mild to middling busy week.

No one had landed in St. Mungos or come disastrously close to losing a limb, but there had already been twelve assault related arrests, five theft related arrests, the house of a recently deceased witch teeming with dark artefacts that had nearly put three of the Aurors in the hospital, and a rash of biting tea sets for which Misuse of Muggle Artefacts had to be brought in following the initial response to the panicked call from the antiques dealer.

All in all it had been fairly quiet for three of the six days that Robards was on sick leave for wizard mumps, something normally gotten as a child and was highly unpleasant for a man in his 50's. Robards had been nearly green when he'd finally been hustled out of his office and straight to St. Mungos by three Aurors and his secretary, on Friday.

But, Harry reminded himself as his door burst open, peace never lasted long. He set down his pencil and pushed his gold wire-rimmed glasses up, glancing up in time to see none other than Lucius Malfoy sweeping into the room, his robes billowing so widely they would have made Severus Snape proud.

Cleared of all Death Eater related charges after a three year stay in Azkaban at the end of the war, Lucius Malfoy looked the same as he had when Harry first met him, right before second year started, pointed nose higher than ever and scowl firmly in place.

“Mr. Malfoy,” Harry said tiredly, politely indicating the chairs in front of his, (Robards) desk. “What can I do for you?”

Though Harry didn't often see him, Lucius Malfoy was in the ministry at least once a week to complain about people and reporters lurking outside his gate, something Aurors had absolutely no jurisdiction over, and had told Mr. Malfoy repeatedly. Still, he seemed intent on driving the entire department to frustration, even ten years later. Well, normally it wasn't Harry's business, so he didn't care.

“Mr. Potter, I want to file a missing persons report,” Lucius said without preamble, sitting gracefully in one of the chairs in front of Robards/Harry's desk.

Harry's eyebrows raised and he sat a little straighter. Well, this was new. He looked surprisingly tense and jittery, Harry thought. Much less collected than he seemed when he came through the door.

“May I ask who you would like to register as missing?” he asked, automatically rummaging in the drawer of blank forms for the appropriate one.

“My son, Draco Malfoy.”

Harry paused. He blinked. He glanced up at Lucius and narrowed his eyes.

“May I ask how long it's been since you've seen Draco?” he asked, uncomfortable suspicion niggling at the back of his mind.

“Nearly a week,” Lucius said, tapping his cane impatiently on the floor. Harry had never seen him so agitated, not even during the Battle of Hogwarts, more than ten years before.

Harry's mind was spinning circles, suspicions fire off like a line of Weasley crackers. Sliding the drawer closed he rose slowly, trying to keep the scowl off his face.

“Mr. Malfoy, if you'd excuse me for just a few minutes, I have to check a theory. If I'm wrong you may of course file all the necessary paperwork to open a missing persons investigation. Imogen will get you something to drink,” he said as he pulled open the door in time for Robards' secretary to hear his last, leaving Lucius Malfoy staring at him with a shocked expression.

 

* * *

 

_Six Days Ago_

It was late, well past midnight, and Harry was beginning to regret asking Malfoy of all people in to consult on this damned potions case. He was being more annoying than Harry could remember and that was saying a lot. They'd lived through Hogwarts together, and the first five years after the war, until all the fervour had died down, which meant Harry hadn't been able to turn around without bumping into Malfoy at some party or charity ball or some sort of other ministry function. It made Harry's teeth hurt just thinking about the number of time's he'd had to make polite conversation with Draco Malfoy, of all people, those first few years.

It had settled, eventually, and they were actually able to carry on a civil conversation now. Mostly. Tonight had begun that way but had quickly devolved into petty name calling and rude remarks.

“I don't know why you bother, scarhead,” Malfoy sneered right on cue and Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. “Your arrest record may stand out in this department, but when have you ever actually solved a case that required you to do something more than point a stunner or a disarming charm at someone and blast them?”

“Malfoy...” Harry warned, his patience running thin. They'd already been here three hours pouring over the case files and he was tired, hungry, and wanted to go home.

“And honestly, Potter, you could have called anyone else, you didn't have to interrupt my lovely holiday in France,” Malfoy said airily.

“You know what Malfoy?” Harry practically shouted as he stood, circling his desk. Malfoy rose to meet him, putting them almost nose to nose. “I don't need your help, I will find someone else, and you can go back to roasting your skinny arse to a crisp on the French Riviera for all I care!”

“Fine.”

“Fine!”

They stood breathing hard, fits clenches as they watched each other across the short distance. If asked later, neither could quite say who moved first, but moments later Harry's mouth slammed into Draco's, fingers tangling in his platinum blond locks, and Draco's arms were around Harry, tugging him closer as they both moaned. Harry spun them quickly, pinning Draco to the desk, gasping when Draco's legs came around his hips and tugged them closer until Harry could feel how hard Draco was through the layers of robes.

Harry had broken several rules and a dozen anti-appiration wards getting them back to Grimmauld Place, for which he was severely told off and, as punishment, given the thankless job of head Auror for a full week. Without the pay bump. Given the night he'd had, he really didn't mind at the time.

 

* * *

 

 

_Now_

Harry was fuming as he took the lifts down and he apparated half an inch across line of the wards, landing in the entrance hall of Grimmauld Place with a bang. On the wall Mrs. Black started shouting and Harry scowled, throwing a particularly powerful stunner at her before taking the stairs to at a time.

The sight that greeted him on entering his bedroom was almost exactly as he'd left it that morning. Curtains almost completely drawn, save for one ray of light that illuminated a pale foot and a shock of blond hair sticking out from under the duvet.

Enraged, Harry stormed over to the bed and tugged the cover away, jolting Draco awake.

“Wassit?” Draco said blearily and if Harry hadn't been so mad he would have laughed. Any other day he would have had a small freakout about how different a half asleep Draco was, without the sneer or the haughty manner in place.

“Have you been out of this house at _all_ this entire week?” Harry demanded, already knowing the answer.

Draco yawned, rubbing his eyes before he flopped back onto the bed, smirking.

“Why would I leave? I was already on vacation,” he smirked, eyeing Harry's dishevelled robes and even more dishevelled hair.

“Apparently not,” Harry muttered. “Your father is right this minute sitting in my office intent on filing a missing persons report because he hasn't seen you in nearly a week.”

Draco frowned, sitting up slowly.

“My father...”

“Is in my office. And thinks you're missing,” Harry nodded, trying to ignore the way the light was falling across Draco's skin.

“Well...”

There was a long pause as Draco's brain cycled.

“Well, what am I supposed to tell him?” Harry demanded, impatient.

“I don't supposed you'd be willing to just tell him we've spent most of the week shagging...no, alright, alright, don't get your knickers in a twist,” Draco yawned at the expression on his face. “Make up some rot, I don't know. Tell him I'm working for you.”

“Oh for...” Harry growled, a plan forming in his mind. “Fine. You got grabbed by the Unspeakables for a consult, you got wrapped up in it and lost track of time. Now get dressed and get to the ministry, I can delay a few minutes, but he's going to want to see you.”

“A consult it not exactly what I got wrapped up in,” Draco smirked lecherously at Harry, then yelped when a singing hex hit him in the thigh.

“Now, Malfoy, or you're not getting any tonight, tomorrow, or for the foreseeable future!” Harry shouted, already leaving the room. He vanished with a crack before Draco could do more than scowl.

When Harry reached his office again, Lucius was glaring at his desk, not seeming to have moved an inch. Harry braced himself and entered, his best smile on his face.

“So sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Malfoy,” he said smoothly. “I had a suspicion I needed to confirm. About a week ago Draco was here to meet with me regarding some illicit potions activities and advise the department on if there may be an imminent threat. It seems on his way out he was, to use a muggle term, poached, by the Unspeakable department. It seems he's been working on a particularly difficult consult for most of the week and lost track of time. There are a few things in the lab that need to be secured and then he'll be on his way up.”

Harry smiled as he took his seat again, trying to remain relaxed as Lucius appeared to consider this.

“It is unlike Draco to be so...disorganized,” he said at last.

“Obviously I can't share any details, but it's my understanding that the case is highly complex,” Harry said diplomatically and Lucius gave a small nod.

There was silence as they drank their tea. It was awkward, and Harry thanked all the stars when Draco entered the room, head held high and not a hair out of place.

“Father, what's this I hear about filing a missing persons report?” he asked and Harry stood, nodding to both men and leaving them alone.

“Tough act that one,” Imogen said as Harry leaned against the far wall. He nodded absently, turning over the last week in his mind.

The last week, as it happens, had been a whirlwind of shagging, snogging, some cooking, and in Harry's case at least, some fast developing feelings. He still wasn't quite sure how to handle it, but he'd gone to work the morning after their first night imagining it was a one off and Draco would be long gone the moment he woke. This was absolutely not the case when Harry came home and found Draco in his kitchen, cooking. Needless to say dinner had gone cold by the time they'd gotten around to eating.

It had continued like that, Harry slipping out of bed early and going to work, then coming home late to find Draco cooking or reading a book he'd pilfered from the Black family library. He was always wearing different clothes under his robes, so Harry assumed he'd been out during the day, but apparently he was mistaken.

He was jarred out of his thoughts when the door opened and Lucius strode out, pausing briefly.

“My apologies for wasting your time, Mr. Potter,” he said with a curt nod, vanishing around the corner before Harry could even open his mouth to respond.

Glancing toward the office he saw Draco sitting in the recently vacated chair, scowling at the wall.

“Imogen, would you be a love and bring some more tea?” Harry asked tiredly and the old with nodded, casting a wink in his direction. He only hoped she wasn't as big a gossip as some of the other retired Aurors.

Shutting the door softly behind him he sat behind the desk, watching Draco, waiting.

“My father, is paranoid,” he said finally, rolling his head back to stare at the ceiling. “Utterly and completely mental. He knew I was supposed to be incommunicado, I was supposed to be in France for Merlin's sake.”

“Why aren't you?” Harry asked. “In France, that is? Why are you...here...”

“With you?” Draco chuckled. “Curiosity, Potter, curiosity,” he grinned, the expression making Harry's insides clench.

Draco rose smoothly from the chair and leaned over the desk, catching Harry in a deep and breath stealing kiss. As quickly as it began, he vanished.

“See you at home, Potter,” the words were whispered in Harry's ear and by the time he could register and blink, Draco was sweeping out of the room, thanking Imogen for the tea and apologizing for having to leave, and then he was gone.

“Bugger,” Harry muttered, thumping his head on the desk quietly. A cup of tea set down by his head and Imogen patted his shoulder in sympathy, closing the door without a word as she left.

“Bugger,” Harry repeated, then got back to work.

 

* * *

 

 

That night Harry flooed home late, stepping out of the fireplace with surprising grace, given his years of stumbling, to find Draco Malfoy lounging on his sofa.

“Just moved in, have you?” he asked grumpily as he strode past the other man. The remaining six hours in the office had not done anything for his short temper. He was only thankful that it was Thursday and he only had one more day, barring emergencies, and Robards would be back Monday. He wasn't ready to run an entire department.

“I told you I was on vacation. Vacations usually mean one is taking residence somewhere else,” Draco said, not looking up from the copy of Quidditch Weekly in his hands.

Harry stomped into the kitchen and flicked the kettle on, coming back to stand over Draco and glare down at him.

“I should chuck you out,” he said, only partially serious.

Draco's head rolled back on the arm of the couch and he grinned as his eyes met Harry's.

“But you won't,” he said smugly. “Would you like to know why?”

Harry just huffed, so Draco snagged his robe and tugged him down unceremoniously until Harry lay sprawled over Draco on the couch and Draco proceeded to list all of the things he wanted to do to Harry, continuing until Harry cut him off the best way he knew how, sealing his mouth over Draco's in a hard and somewhat desperate kiss.

“I hate you,” Harry muttered as Draco's fingers worked at his robes, pushing them open. Draco's only answer was a smug grin and Harry rolled his eyes, kissing the other man again.

They were missing robes and shoes, shirts halfway unbuttoned and breathing heavy when Harry pulled back suddenly.

“What is this?” he managed to gasp, tugging himself away from Draco long enough to catch his eyes. He was getting in too deep, too fast, and if Malfoy wasn't right there with him he was honestly chucking him out right now.

“Potter, now is not the time,” Draco sighed, nuzzling Harry's neck.

“Now's exactly the time,” Harry said, tangling his fingers in Draco's hair and pulling him back. “Tell me what this is.”

Draco was silent for a long moment, searching Harry's face, then he sighed.

“This is seventeen years of pent up animosity, dislike, hatred, mistrust, and no small amount of lust and desire overflowing into the most spectacular week of shagging we've ever had,” he said curtly and Harry tilted his head.

“And when the week of shagging is done?” he asked quietly and once more Draco sighed.

“I suppose then I'll be forced to take you out to dinner to keep myself in your good graces,” he said like it was the hardest thing in the world. Harry stared.

“So then...you want more than this?” he asked softly.

“Merlin, Potter, I've been half in love with you since we were fifteen, of course I want more,” Draco snapped, his face oddly vulnerable as he met Harry's eyes. Harry just smiled.

“Well...good. Because I think I've been a bit in love with you since you rescued me from that troll of a woman at the third...or was it forth, anyway, that 'Thank Merlin old Mouldy Pants is Gone' thing,” Harry confessed and Draco chuckled.

“Ah yes, I remember her. Can't keep yourself out of trouble, now can you, Potter?” he smirked, drawing Harry closer.

“Well...I stumbled into you, didn't I?”

Draco's grin was positively filthy and Harry shivered, his own grin firmly in place.

“Well, maybe you've learned how to find the right kind of trouble,” he purred and Harry snorted, drawing him closer and kissing him deeply, sweetly, and with all the overwhelming feelings threatening to drown him.

Draco, it seemed, understood, and returned the kiss in kind, wrapping is arms around Harry and just holding him.

“Ron's going to have a fit,” Harry mumbled and Draco outright laughed.

“Please, please tell me I can be the one to tell him?” he said, his eyes shining and Harry felt his heart fluttering as he nodded, realizing that even if he'd tried to chuck Draco out, he couldn't. He was already absolutely head over heels in love with the git.

“You're looking at me funny,” Draco said softly and Harry grinned.

“I was just thinking,” Harry hummed, sitting back on Draco's lap, carefully tightening his muscles, ready to move quickly. “We should have gotten together ages ago. You've got ten years of Weasley dinners and Christmas jumpers to catch up on. Bet your first one will have a ferret on it.”

Harry ran, laughing as Draco's enraged “POTTER!” followed him through the house and up the stairs.


End file.
